Max Payne
by Aboodash56
Summary: A novelization of the first Max Payne game. Max Payne, a troubled former NYPD cop and DEA agent, is framed for murder and finds himself being hunted by the police, the mob, and a ruthless corporation. With nothing to lose, he goes to find the ones who murdered his loved ones in the worst winter storm of the city.


Author's note: Hey, what's up, readers? It has been eighteen years since the release of the first Max Payne game. This game is a childhood classic and I used to play it and the sequel so much. It has such an interesting story and the character of Max Payne would go on to become one of the most recognizible video game characters of all time. I had been thinking of adapting Max Payne as since 2014 and now, I finally have the oppotunity to do so. I am huge fan of the game and I'm going to adapt the story as faithfully as possible. I will be also taking some creative liberties while writing the story. I hope you enjoy the story.

* * *

**_Prologue: The American Dream_**

* * *

_New York City. Present Day. One Hour Ago._

It was a cold, snowy day of October in New York City. The city was facing it's worst ice blizzard in its history. An NYPD helicopter was flying over the Hudson River towards the city.

"Stand-by 10-10. Investigating a report disturbance on Aesir Plaza."

"Inform dispatch. Verify address."

"It's Aesir Plaza. Repeat, Aesir Plaza."

As the helicopter flew over the city, two cars drive to where the helicopter is heading: The Aesir Corporation Headquarters. There has been an assualt in the plaza.

"Shots fired on the rooftop. An assault in progress at Aesir Plaza. I repeat, an assault in progress."

"It's a warzone down here. 10-85 dispatcher, need additional units. Additional units now! Officer in danger! Officer in danger!"

"10-5. Repeat, 10-5, all units, all units, emergency. Officer in danger, Aesir Plaza, I repeat, Aesir Plaza."

There was a man standing at the top of a skyscraper building with a Colt M4 assault rifle in his hands, looking down on the nightmare that changed his life as police units were on their way. He was a tall man with brown hair and blue eyes, clad in a black leather trenchcoat, an orange opened shirt, a white t-shirt with a necklace, dark blue jeans and black shoes. In other words, that man was _me_.

I stood still on the skyscraper as the police arrived to arrest me. I had been thinking about what happened in the last three nights. They were all dead. The final gunshot was an exclamation mark to everything that had led to this point. I released my finger from the trigger, and then it was over. To make any sense of it, I need to go back three years. Back to the night the pain started.

* * *

_Max Payne's Office, NYPD headquarters, Lower Manhattan. August 23rd, 1998._

It was August 23rd, 1998. A day that will live in my memory. I was still a detective back then. NYPD. Manhattan. Mid-Town North Precent, Hell's Kitchen. My friend, Alex Balder, was also a detective in NYPD before transferring to the DEA, the Drug Enforcement Agency. I was standing in my office in the NYPD headquarters when Alex approached me. He tried to recommend me to transfer to his division.

"So, when are you going to work for me, Max?" Alex asked me.

"You'd put me undercover in some shithole. Sorry, Alex." I told him. "Michelle and the baby come first."

As I finished smoking, I snuffed the cigarette that I just smoked and left it in the ashtray. Since the baby was coming in a few months, I decided to quit smoking once the baby was born.

"See? That's my last smoke." I told Alex as left the cigarette in the ashtray. "It's bad for the baby."

"That's you, Max. A regular boyscout." Alex chuckled.

"See you, Alex." I told him just as I began leaving my office.

"You still on poker Thursday night, right?" Alex asked me and I told him. "Like taking a candy from a baby." On Thursday nights, Alex and I occasionally went to play poker. However, I was going to be busy on Thursday, as I promised Michelle that I would take care of her through the week.

* * *

_The Payne Residence, New Jersey._

Life was good. The sunset on a sweet summer's day. The smell of fresh lawns filed the air. The sounds of children playing. A house across the river on the Jersey side. A beautiful wife and a baby girl. The American Dream come true. But dreams have a nasty habit of going bad when you're not looking.

I arrived at my house later than I expected. The sunset went down on a practice bravado. Twilight crawled across the sky laden with foreboding. I stuck the keys in my house's front door and swung it open. Then I closed the front door and let the keys out of the door.

"Honey, I'm home!" I called out.

There was no answer. There was a silence in the house. I was a bit curious about what was happening.

"Michelle? Honey? Anybody home?" I called out again.

I didn't like the way the show started, but they had given me the best seat in the house. Front row center. I began looking into the darkened house, and just as I began looking, something had caught my attention. It was black V mark with a syringe that had been painted on the wall.

"What the hell..."

Something ugly had been tattooed on the wall, a map of things to come. It was a poisoned syringe, a magic tag full of diabolical meanings. As I kept looking in the house, I heard the phone ringing constantly. I slid my Colt M1911 pistol out of my jacket and like a predator, I ran over and picked up the phone.

"Hello? Someone's broken into my house. Call 911!" I said to the caller. Suddenly, a cold and elderly female voice came from the speaker and replied, "Is this the Payne Residence?".

"Yes, someone has broken into my house. They're still here." I desperately told the unknown caller. "You have to-" Just when I was about to tell her what happened, I was cut off by the caller. "Good. I'm afraid I cannot help you."

The caller had shut the phone. "Who is this?"I asked. All I heard was the phone's beeping sound. "Hello?"

So much for the help. I had to continue on my own. I put down the phone and I proceeded up to the stairs. My feet had pounded on the hardwood steps as I stepped up the stairs. I held my pistol with my hands and I expected the worst. Suddenly, I heard my wife screaming followed by my baby girl. The last thing I heard were gunshots.

"Michelle!" I called out. I was desperate to find out what happened. My best guess was that my family was being held in the bedroom. I could have gone there faster by reaching the bathroom. So, I headed to the bathroom and upon getting there, I was stopped by the sight of blood smeared all over the bathroom. I tried to open the door that connected the bathroom and the bedroom, but it was jammed.

"Michelle!" I yelled out desperately as I heard my plead for her life in front of the door.

"No, please!" My wife had begged the fireman not to shoot her. From what I have heard, the gunman ignored her pleas and shot four shots at her. I was pissed off and got out of the bathroom and headed to my baby's bedroom. I stopped as the door opened and a man in a green jumpsuit stood in the doorway. He was holding a 9mm Beretta pistol.

"It's coming." The man said.

"Freeze! NYPD, drop it!" I yelled at him.

However, the man didn't stop. Instead, he walked towards me and said. "Death... is coming!" By now, I had my M1911 pistol trained at his chest, ready to fire. The gunman fired at me, but I dodged the bullet and I shot three shots at him. I saw the gunman falling dead on the floor, his chest covered with three bullets and blood covered the floor of the bedroom.

I walked into the room and I saw another man in jumpsuit charged out of the door on the opposite side of the room. The gunman screamed inaudible cussing and fired at me. Luckily, I dodged the shot, whipped my pistol and fired him at the head. Blood splattered on the wall behind and he fell lifelessly on the ground.

It was there that I realized my surroundings. I saw the baby blue walls with cloud painting covered with blood. I saw the crip tripped over with my dead daughter inside next to alphabet blocks wrapped in a blanket. A lullaby was still playing in the corner. I was shocked to see my baby daughter, Rose, lying down dead.

"No... No... Please god, no..." I paused, quivering in shock. Never have I felt my life shattered so quickly. That was until I headed to the next room.

As I headed to the door, I heard someone saying "The Flesh of Fallen Angels!". I opened the door and another gunman was standing across the room. He held his gun and fired at me. Pieces of shrapnel from the bulllet flew like a cloud of dust. I dodged the bullet and and fired my gun at the gunma. The lifless body of the gunman laid on the ground.

I turned around her and I saw her. I saw my beautiful wife, Michelle, lying dead on the bead. Bullet wounds looked like shiny rubies engraved into her stomach. I stood in horror of what I just saw. I was too late to save her, to save Rose. I felt like it was my fault that I couldn't save them.

"No, no, no. Oh, god. Please, Michelle. No." I said as I began crying.

I slowly walked up to her and laid on the bed. I grabbed her body and I hugged her. Tears came out of my eyes. My life could have well ended when theirs did. Losing your family was a huge blow in your life. It was the hardest blow in life, and it was almost like someone stabbed you in the chest.

The depression washed me over like a giant wave of water on a beach. I couldn't control myself. I let out a scream as I cried the hardest I could ever can.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

That was three years ago. Everything ripped apart in a New York minute. The killer junkies had been previously high on a designer drug called Valkyr, V. After the funeral, I told Alex I'd be transferring to the DEA. It took us three long years to get a break on the Valkyr case. Then, finally two months ago, we learned that Jack Lupino, a mob boss of the Punchinello Crime Family, was trafficking. I went undercover, infilitrated the worst mafia family in New York.


End file.
